


Learning Russian

by iszy_chan



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mindless Fluff, POV Female Character, bc i dont know russian, google translate ftw, in the phonetic sense and the written sense, russian cinnamon bun of cuteness, russian speech
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 21:30:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1362388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iszy_chan/pseuds/iszy_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little oneshot about Chekov trying to teach his partner Russian. Based on a text post on tumblr my husbando told me about ^-^</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning Russian

_"Бутерброды с сыром,"_  the blonde haired boy repeats, his eyes sparkling as the words roll off his tongue. "Now you say."

I wrinkle my nose in concentration, focusing on the words he said.  _"Buterbrody s kyrom--"_  I cut off as I hear my mistake;  _syrom_  not  _kyrom_. I mentally scold myself, my cheeks flushing in more embarrassment than anger. With a huff of annoyance, I bury my face in my hands. "Pavel, I can't do it."

I hear his soft laughter, light and airy.  _"Вы делаете хорошо,"_  he says in his language he knows I don't understand. "You're doing well."

I lower my hands slightly, enough to glare at him. "No I'm not," I say with a pout, feeling like a child not getting their own way. "I'm terrible."

"Better than Captain Kirk." Chekov grins again, the corners of his bright eyes creasing.

"I think you mean  _'not_  better than Captain Kirk'! Even he could say something as simple as  _'Бутерброды с сыром'_  when you taught him!" I hide my face in my hands again, wanting to curl up into a ball and hide in a corner, away from this mockery.

I hear Chekov's chair squeak as he leans forward, two fingers lightly touching my knee. "Hey," he says softly, tracing circles on my leg, just above my knee. "You know what?"

"What?" I mumble unenthusiastically through my fingers.

"You pronounced it exactly right just now."

I sigh again, happy to be able to pronounce the words right but angry that Chekov is proving to be right. "But it's the only thing I can say in Russian," I argue. "I feel so pathetic."

Chekov's fingers leave my leg, and a second later he cups his hands over mine, considerably warmer and larger. I let him detach my hands from my face, my eyes fixed on the floor and my face still red as he closes his hands over mine. He bends down until he is directly between me and my gaze on the floor, obscuring it. A smile is still on his face and I have to stop myself from grinning back.

"You're not pathetic," he whispers, looking up at me with his irresistible eyes that instantly melt my icy anger. "Don't ever say that about yourself."

"Even when it's true?"

"You'll never be pathetic," Chekov answers, brushing his lips against our joined hands.  _"Никогда."_

I release my held breath, leaning my forehead against our hands. "Get off the floor before you get your uniform ruined," I mumble teasingly, watching him slowly rise to his feet and dust off his gold shirt and black trousers. Fixing the position of his starfleet communicator badge, he sits down opposite me again, still holding my hands.

"Do you want to try again?" He asks, his voice fringed with concern.

I slowly force myself to nod. "Yes. Keep going."

With a nod, Chekov thinks of what to teach me next.  _"России легко с практикой."_

I frown at him, catching a few words I recognise from previous lessons. "Russian is  _not_  easy, Chekov. That's not funny."

He laughs, and the sweet sound of it makes me laugh along with him. "Ok," he finally answers, "how about this?  _Куриные наггетсы."_

I take a deep breath, focusing on his pronounciation.  _"Kurinyye nuggetsy."_  I pause, going over what I had said.

Chekov chuckled softly. "Nearly.  _Naggetsy_  not  _nuggetsy."_

I frown again, staring stubbornly at the floor.

Chekov laughs again, tilting up my chin to force me to look at him. "You're so stroppy," he says, grinning. "Just take it slow. Repeat after me:  _Ty prekrasna."_

 _"Ty prekrasna,"_  I repeat uneasily, not recognising the words he is teaching me.

_"i ya."_

_"i ya."_

_"lyublyu tebya."_

_"lyublyu tebya."_

Chekov nods, smiling. "Now put it all together.  _Ты прекрасна, и я люблю тебя."_

I hesitate, trying to focus my mind.  _"Ty prekrasna, i ya lyublyu tebla."_

Chekov laughs again, seeming more amused by me not being able to speak Russian than angry at me.

My fists ball in my lap and I glare furiously at the ground. "This is stupid," I mumble, my voice so low it nears a growl.

Chekov takes my wrists, pulling me to my feet. His arms snake around my waist, pulling me close to him. "We can stop whenever you want to. It was your idea to learn Russian, after all."

I sigh, dragging a hand through my hair. "I'm sorry, I just can't do it, and it's so  _frustrating!"_

"It will take time, don't worry," Chekov replies, leaning forward so his nose lightly touches mine. "Will you keep trying?"

I look up at his luminous eyes, seeing the shades of blue and green flecks shimmering as he looks at me. "Yes," I answer, feeling heat spread across my cheeks at our closeness. "I will keep trying."

Chekov smiles so much the corners of his mouth nearly touch his ears. Closing the space between us, he brushes his lips against mine, soft and luxurious. His arms around me tighten, and I reach up to tangle my fingers in his mousy-brown locks. I melt into him, finding my body pressed against his and his hands tracing shapes on my back.

The sound of a door opening breaks us apart and I spin around, clutching the front of Chekov's uniform.

A head appears around the edge of the door of Chekov's apartment and as soon as the person sees us, their eyebrows arch in surprise. "Chekov?"

"Captain Kirk," he answers, his arms staying around me in more of a protective hold than a loving embrace now. "Can I help you with anything?"

Kirk's eyes linger on me. "Yeah, I just came to say that there's a meeting tonight you need you to go..." he trails off, straightening up and stepping into the room. "So who's this?" He leans against the doorframe, his uniform pulling tight across his chest showing his defined muscles.

"My girlfriend," Chekov answers, looking down at me and giving me a sweet smile. He leans down and pecks me on the nose, and out of the corner of my eye I see Kirk's eyebrows arch even further up his forehead.

"Wow, I never expected you to score with such a keeper, Chekov!" Kirk claps him on the back, grinning. I see a blush creep its way across his cheeks, mine also flaring with embarrassment. "Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the Enterprise," he introduces himself to me, extending his hand, and I shake it.

"Nice to meet you, Captain," I reply. "When do you need Chekov?"

Kirk scratches the back of his head. "Now would be best. Bones is trying to get the crew together before the meeting." He cocks an eyebrow at Chekov. "Are you teaching her Russian?"

"Slowly and steadily," he replies, grinning.

 _"Не трогай это, Чехов,"_  Kirk says to me, but I understand none of it. "It's the only thing I remember. It means  _don't touch that, Chekov._  Comes in handy when we're on a mission and he's hitting random buttons."

"I don't hit random buttons!" Chekov protested. "I wouldn't have gotten through the academy by just hitting random buttons!"

"Whatever you say, kid," Kirk replies, waving his hand dismissively. "Anyway, I'll see you out in the hall. Finish whatever you were doing." He winks at me before walking out the door, pulling it to.

Chekov releases his breath as soon as Kirk is gone. "Damn," he says, "I'm so glad he didn't start hitting on you."

I laugh, hugging his chest. "I will admit he's good-looking, but he comes nowhere near to you."

Chekov chuckles with me, dragging a hand through my hair. "If it means anything, I think you're much better-looking than he is." He reaches past me, taking his jacket off the back of the chair I had been sitting on. "I've got to go, though.  _Мне очень жаль."_

"It's fine," I answer, helping him pull on his jacket. "Just call me when the meeting's over."

"Okay." He quickly leans down and presses his lips to mine. "See you in a few hours."

"Wait." I catch his sleeve as he turns to leave. "What were you trying to teach me? What does  _'ты прекрасна, и я люблю тебя'_  mean?"

Chekov smiles, turning to face me and taking my hands. "It means...  _you're beautiful, and I love you."_  Kissing me once more, he breaks away and steps towards the door. "I'll miss you and your Russian."

"The same to you!" I reply, grinning, despite my longing for him.  _"ты прекрасна, и я люблю тебя."_


End file.
